


Just Hang on A Little Longer

by ImmediatelyWriting



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Inspired by Music, Inspired by Watashi No R, M for Implied Suicide, One Shot, References to Depression, Sad, Short One Shot, Suicidal Nanase Haruka, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Trigger Warnings, tw suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:48:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28386513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImmediatelyWriting/pseuds/ImmediatelyWriting
Summary: I stare at the snow and how my feet don't even leave footsteps behind; that's how unimportant I am.I swing one leg over the railing and look down into the abyss that is waiting for me.I'm not crying; the other guy, who's also ready to jump, is."Just hang on a little longer!"(Haruka's POV)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Just Hang on A Little Longer

**Author's Note:**

> Hey There!
> 
> Before you start, let me give you a liiiitle BUT REALLY IMPORTANT trigger warning! This has implied suicide attempts and suicidal thoughts in it!  
> If you are affected by this badly DO NOT READ!!! For your own safety!
> 
> Love, Noa <3

Silence is all that will come from me now; my last words are already written down on paper.

I’m on my way to the roof, with pain in my legs and an ache in my heart. Before I push through the door, I hesitate for a moment, because what if this is the wrong choice and I shouldn’t be doing this.

It’s not like there’s anything to go back to; there’s nothing left to do.

So I push though the door.

Cold wind brushes past my cheeks, it causes my short hair to flutter in the wind.

I saunter over the flat rooftop with my head held low. I stare at the snow and how my feet don't even leave footsteps behind; that's how unimportant I am.

At first I feel sad and maybe even a little scared about what I'm going to do, but by the time I reach the railing I feel nothing but empty.

I don't feel fear when I take my shoes off and step of the lowest rail, ready to climb over it. Hell, I don't even feel anything when I hear sobbing; it must all be in my head anyway.

It must be what my mind likes me to think off before I throw myself off a thirty story high building; it wants me to think of the people that'll mourn me. Little does my mind know that the only person that cares about me is my best friend, and he moved to Tokyo without even bothering to see if I was okay with that.

I swing one leg over the railing and look down into the abyss that is waiting for me.

That's when the sobbing gets louder, and all of a sudden the iron in the palm of my hand starts shaking. I'm not crying; the guy hanging onto the railing for dear life, is.

"What the hell are you doing?" I yell on reflex, like you do when you see someone standing on the wrong side of the safety rail. "Don't do it, please! Don't jump!"

The guy turns around, tears blurring his vision and long red hair keeping me from seeing his face.

"Why are you up here?" he replies, seemingly just as confused about my presence as I was about his.

I shrug, climbing back towards the safe side of the railing, because I'm not doing it if that means I'll have to share the fame with another dumbass that fell off the roof.

"Look," I reply. "I don't get why you're here, but please don't jump... it's not worth it."

Look who's talking, I tell myself, I was the one ready to stop with everything just now.

"Well," the redhead mumbles. "It's not like you know anything about me, or my reasons."

I don't, he's right.

"It's just-" He whimpers. "My best friend, he's ruining himself; his life. His shoulder is getting worse, and when I asked him about it we got into a messed up fight."

I close my eyes and take a deep breath; there's no way that this is going to be a good reason.

"He hasn't talked to me ever since, but I know his anger makes him ruin himself even more. Within no time, he'll be gone beyond repeat," the guy continues. "If I hadn't been there to challenge him time and time again, he might've not pushed so far."

I clear my throat and bite my cheek to keep the anger from exploding out of me; this isn’t the reason.

“Are you serious?” I mumble. The grumble soon turns into something more like a yell, because I’m just so pissed that he got here before I did, especially when I add, “That’s such a stupid reason!”

The redhead looks shocked, but his tears have stopped flowing.

“Just because someone around you isn’t happy, just because they’re ruining their life—“ my voice falters when I think about what I told myself when I thought about doing _it_ the first time. I was just twelve and everyone I knew seemed too unhappy; in my head that was all because of me.

I was too alone, too silent and too ungrateful for their friendship; they couldn’t be happy with me around, and therefore threw away important chances and got themselves in trouble because of me.

My mind kept telling me they’d be better off without me.

I sneaked into the bathroom and with pills in my hand I looked at myself in the mirror; I couldn’t recognize myself anymore, but what I could still see was a light deep inside.

I didn’t _want_ to stay twelve for forever, I didn’t want to die; I’d just been telling myself that I did for the sake of my friends, most of whom I never spoke again afterwards out of guilt.

I didn’t kill myself that day, because…

“It is bullshit to throw your own life away for someone you care for!” I yell, waving frantically with my arms, making sure to get the point to him. “Think about it, they won’t stop ruining their life once you’re gone. Hell, grief might even make them treat themselves even worse!”

The guy nods, closing his eyes briefly before making his way back to the safe side of the railing.

He laid his hand on my shoulder and, in between whimpers, he whispered, “Please, listen to yourself, okay? Don’t jump, please.” before disappearing through the door.

The unnamed redhead’s words reached me, they stuck with me for over a month.

They caused me to rip up the letter I wrote and they even caused me to pick my life back up.

They kept me going until my boss fired me, I lost all my place to stay and my parents didn’t even call to see how I was doing after losing my job, my apartment and my everything in one week.

Thus, I tore my calendar to shreds again, and chose another date; his words didn’t matter anymore.

They don’t apply to me.

So here I am again, on the same rooftop; this is the place where I’ve always been going when I’m down ever since I was twelve, so it would only be fitting if this would be the place where I ended all.

I’ve written down my last words, but not the same as last time; it’ll only bring bad luck.

Spoken about bad luck – as if a ruined life on the streets with barely anything to eat wasn’t enough – just as I’m taking off my shoes, I see something moving in the corner of my eye.

I turn to see a blond guy standing there; hanging over the fence like he’s seeing if it’s high enough.

Even though I shouldn’t stick my nose in other’s business, and I don’t feel like it now, I hear my own voice scream, “Don’t do it!”

The guy turns around with red cheeks and tears in his eyes. He looks tired, but not empty like me.

“W-what are you doing here?” the small blond guy replies. “Don’t think you can stop me; I can’t live like this anymore—“ his voice falters, unsure and hesitant and it’s clear he’s never stood here before.

I lean against the wall and ask, “Like what?” because it’s not like I can just leave now; I’d better just listen to this young guy and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.

He tells me about his parents and how they’re way too strict. “My family is messed up like that,” he says, his eyes filling up with tears again. “They just let you study and study and when you’re done you become a doctor or a lawyer—“ he pauses, gazing down into the fall below. “—I don’t want that, not at all; I-I just don’t know who I’m studying for, you know?”

I take a deep breath, because no teenager knows what they’re studying for.

“Are you kidding me?” I yell, my own volume surprising myself. “You want to end it, just because you don’t agree with your parents about your future?”

“Uh.” He looks confused, but also like he’s just realizing how foolish that sounds.

“You’re lucky that your parents even care!” I scream, because it’s not like my parents have ever cared about my future; here I am nineteen years old, a dropout and failure, because no one ever cared about me enough to think about _my_ future. “Don’t be stupid, be glad that you’re loved at home!”

I see the kid sinking onto his knees, because he knows I’m right.

Eventually, he nods and gets onto his feet again; a small thanks is all I get before he leaves.

After that day, even after failing at pushing through multiple times, I come back to the roof time and time again. And I keep finding people who’re up here for the stupidest of reasons.

Some are here because of love, some of family or a loss. Yet, they all have one thing in common; they talk to me, I make them turn away and after that they walk away and I never hear of them again.

They don’t impress me much, they rather annoy be even; while I’m always there to listen to everyone’s problems and foolish reasons, no one ever listens to mine.

Instead I am the one telling myself not to jump while seeing myself get thinner and more depressed every time I look in the mirror. That pain and agony I recognize in someone for the first time when I’m up there again; a deep-teal haired guy with sunken eyes and an empty voice.

He notices my arrival before I notice him standing on the edge of the building. He looks at me mouth-opened and slightly frowning, almost like he’s annoyed that I arrived.

I can see his grip loosen and before I know if I’m dashing across the roof, reaching down not even knowing if I’ll be strong enough to keep him from tumbling down.

I’m just in time to grab his wrist, feeling the ragged scars against the palm of my hand, and for once I’m the one crying and holding on for dear life.

“Please,” I cry, carrying all his weight with one arm. “Don’t do it! Don’t die.”

I don’t want to witness anyone dying; it’s my job to die.

He doesn’t look sad, or surprised or lively whatsoever, when he tells me about why he’s here. “I’m not here for someone, I’m here for selfish reasons.”

_Just like me._ I look down at the ground and realize that if he’s like me, I can’t help him.

“I’m done,” he mumbles. “I just want to keep these scars from multiplying… there are more and more and more, every time that I go home; that needs to end.”

“J-just, please—“ I sniffle, my first time crying in years. “—Don’t die on me.”

A ghost of a smile appears on the guy his face when he whispers, “So, it’s not my day after all?”

The guy grabs the railing and secures his own safety. As he leaves the rooftop via the staircase, I know that I’ve saved another life; at least for now.

With so many lives saved, and my own still in ruins, I spend my time surviving rather than living.

After ruining my own life, my parents life and getting so deep into my issues that I threw my future and my only friendship away; I go up there again.

I send him a text; _Sayonara._

I’m all alone with nothing left to live for, nothing left to go back to.

I feel empty as I climb over the railing.

I don’t cry when my grip loosens.

I’m not scared or sad or anxious when I let the long fall greet me.

With my eyes closed I feel the wind rush past me, through my hair and past my cheeks.

Until it stops…

_I stopped falling._

“Haruka!” a voice cries out from just above me.

_Have I died?_

Sweaty hands pull me back up, back onto the roof where I realize that I didn’t die.

“You came to safe me?” I whisper when I’m being pulled into a tight and warm and shaky hug.

There’s a familiar voice, the only voice that ever cared about me, replying, “Of course I did.”

Sobs escape from my mouth; not because I’m sad, I’ve never been this happy. After all, Makoto caught me.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey There!
> 
> So, this idea came to me after listening to "Watashi No R" on repeat (yes I am okay) and just really needed to write this story!  
> I hope it worked out like I wanted to, especially since I myself - fortunately - have no expierence with suicidal thoughts. I've spoken to people who have, so I have a slight idea of what it's like, but not at all in a way that would make me feel the same.  
> Neither did I ever write about something like this before, since I thought many people would find the subject too heavy; after a looooong hesitation, I wanted to try, still.
> 
> I repeat; I am okay, and this is NOT based on (personal) real events!
> 
> Love, Noa <3


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